DEATH DEATH
The young may die, but the old must!
| author = Longfellow
| work = Christus. The Golden Legend. Pt. IV. The Cloisters.
There is no confessor like unto Death!
Thou canst not see him, but he is near:
Thou needest not whisper above thy breath,
And he will hear;
He will answer the questions,
The vague surmises and suggestions,
That fill thy soul with doubt and fear.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Christus. The Golden Legend.
Pt. V. The Inn at Genoa.
Death never takes one alone, but two!
Whenever he enters in at a door,
Under roof of gold or roof of thatch,
He always leaves it upon the latch,
And comes again ere the year is o'er,
Never one of a household only.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Christus. The Golden Legend.
Pt. VI. The Farm-House in the Odenwald.
And, as she looked around, she saw how Death,
the consoler,
Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed
it forever.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Evangeline. Pt. II. V.
There is a Reaper whose name is Death,
And with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Reaper and the Flowers. Compare Abntm and Bkentano—Emtelied, in
Des Kndben Wunderhorn. (Ed. 1857) Vol.
I. P. 59.
a
There is no Death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Resignation.
| seealso = (See also McCreert)
| topic =
| page =
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{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Resignation.
Oh, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death,
Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee,
That thou shouldst die before thou hadst grown
old!
| author = Longfellow
| work = Three Friends of Mine. Pt. II.
Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom,
A shadow on those features fair and thin;
And softly, from the hushed and darkened room,
Two angels issued, where but one went in.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Two Angels. St. 9.
J'avais era plus difficile de mourir.
I imagined it was more difficult to die.
Louis XIV. To Madame de Maintenon. See
Martin—History of France. XIV. Bk.
XCI.
But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet
Lessen like sound of friends' departing feet;
And Death is beautiful as feet of friend
Coming with welcome at our journey's end.
| author = Lowell
| work = An Epistle to George William Curtis.
Victorosque dei celant, ut vivere durent felix
esse mori.
The gods conceal from those destined to
live how sweet it is to die, that they may continue living.
Lucan—Pharsalia. IV. 519.
Libera Fortunae mors est; capit omnia tellus
Quae genuit.
Death is free from the restraint of Fortune;
the earth takes everything which it has brought
forth.
Lucan—Pharsalia. VII. 818.
Pavido fortique cadendum est.
The coward and the courageous alike must
die.
Lucan—Pharsalia. DC. 582.
E mediis Orci faucibus ad hunc evasi modum.
From the very jaws of death I have escaped
to this condition.
Lucretius—App. Met. VII. P. 191.
| seealso = (See also Juvenal)
| topic =
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Adde repertores doctrinarum atque leporum;
Adde Heliconiadum comites; quorum unus Homerus
Sceptra potitus, eadem aliis sopitu quiete est.
Nay, the greatest wits and poets, too, cease
to live;
Homer, their prince, sleeps now in the same
forgotten sleep as do the others.
Lucretius—De Rerum Natura. III. 1,049.
The axe is laid unto the root of the trees.
Luke. III. 9.
To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late,
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods?
Macaulay—Lays of Ancient Rome. Horatius.
XXVII.
There is no death! the stars go down
To rise upon some other shore,
And bright in Heaven's jeweled crown,
They shine for ever more.
John L. McCreert. In Arthur's Home Magazine. July, 1863. Vol.22. P. 41. Wrongly ascribed to Bulwer-Lytton.
| seealso = (See also Longfellow)
| topic =
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>There is no such thing as death.
In nature nothing dies.
From each sad remnant of decay
Some forms of life arise.
Charles Mackat—There is No Such Thing
as Death.
